An English Werewolf In New York
by Kittenmommy
Summary: After resigning from Hogwarts, Remus Lupin finds a new life and a new friend in New York.
1. Chapter 1

  
  
  
"An English Werewolf In New York"   
  
  
  
STANDARD DISCLAIMER: What can I say? I got bored with playing with George Lucas's characters and decided to play with J.K. Rowling's for a while instead. I'm not making any money from this. Any rumors you may have heard about a secret bank account of mine at Gringotts are entirely false.   
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Since Ms. Rowling didn't tell us what color Remus Lupin's eyes are, I took it upon myself to give him eyes befitting someone with his unusual condition. The healing spell is also mine - can you guess its derivation? (Trust me, it's not tough!).   
  
6/29/03   
ADDITIONAL: I've just changed a couple of things due to feedback in reviews, which involved modifying the _Reducio_ spell for my own purposes.  
  
  
  
Chapter 1   
  
  
_"Come and play with me," proposed the little prince. "I am so unhappy."   
"I cannot play with you," the fox said. "I am not tamed."_   
  
- From _The Little Prince_ by Antoine De Saint-Exupéry   
  
  
There is an old expression: Those who can, do. Those who can't, teach. _And those who can do neither write papers for scholarly journals,_ Remus Lupin reflected wryly, putting down his quill and rubbing his tired eyes. He sighed. _No rest for the weary,_ he thought, and picked up his quill again.   
In the months following the now-infamous debacle at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and his ignominious departure from same, Lupin had found himself at loose ends. It's not that he wasn't a highly skilled wizard; he was. It's not that people didn't like him; they did. At least, until they learned his secret, which invariably they did. Whether he divulged the information or they figured it out for themselves, the results were always the same. It was the rare wizard or witch indeed who was prepared to befriend a werewolf. And so, feared and shunned as he was by his own kind (wizards and witches, that is, not werewolves), he had decided to take his chances among the Muggles. He had wanted to find a place where he could simply disappear, where people wouldn't look twice at a person no matter how strange, bizarre, or outlandish he might be. Where, as long as he paid his rent on time and minded his own business, people wouldn't bat an eye at a guy who received most of his mail via owl and who happened to have a rather odd affliction that made him turn into a slavering, ravening, uncontrollable beast once a month.   
Much to his astonishment, such a place actually did exist. It was called New York City. And as he would soon learn, there were monsters in New York too. Oh, they may _look_ human enough, and they may behave normally most of the time, but underneath it all, they were monsters just the same. And in their own way, they were far more monstrous than Remus Lupin at his worst, for the evil they did was deliberate, their victims specifically chosen for their inability to defend themselves.   
_Demonic Possession or Mental Illness?_ Remus wrote. _The Controversy Continues._ He hoped that The Journal for Advances in the Defense Against the Dark Arts would be interested in publishing his article, though he was no longer desperate for money. His financial situation had suddenly improved considerably with his move into the Muggle world. Wizard money was solid gold, and the rate of exchange posted by the American branch of Gringotts was based on the price of gold in U.S. dollars. Remus had walked out of the NYC branch of Gringotts with enough money to live quite well by Muggle standards - and he hadn't even emptied his bank account. As long as he kept cranking out the journal articles, he could continue to live very comfortably indeed. In a way, he felt like he was thumbing his nose at the wizarding world, living so well, living among Muggles. Though he was not a man given to holding grudges, it was a feeling that he rather enjoyed when he thought about it.   
_There are five important signs to watch for in cases where possession is suspected, Remus wrote. The first and perhaps most important is - _  
There was a crashing sound from the apartment across the hall, followed by a female scream, high-pitched and full of panic. Remus looked up, distracted.   
"No, please," the female voice pleaded, her voice choked with sobbing. "John, don't - " Her voice broke off abruptly, as though she'd been forcibly silenced.   
"You thought you'd walk out on me, BITCH?" A male voice roared. "I'll teach you a lesson you'll never forget!" This outburst was followed by the sound of something solid being repeatedly thumped against a wall. Without thinking, Remus dropped his quill, grabbed his wand, and charged out the door.   
  
  
  
Amanda lay sobbing on the floor where John had dropped her. She could feel hard little things in her mouth, like pebbles. It was only when she spat them out that she realized they were teeth. She could hear her ex-husband pacing the floor, probably considering what to do to her next. A new and terrifying thought entered her mind; _He's thinking about how he'll get rid of my body._   
"Excuse me," a new voice said, polite, pleasant, English-accented. "Is there a problem here?" Through slitted eyes that were already beginning to swell shut, she saw a man standing in the remains of her demolished doorway. She recognized him as her neighbor from across the hall. John stopped his pacing to stare at the man in disbelief.   
"Well, well," he finally said. "Is this your little boyfriend, Mandy?" he sneered, stomping over to the new arrival. Though John (a former football player and professional bodybuilder) towered over the man and outweighed him by at least a hundred pounds (probably more), her neighbor met his gaze unflinchingly. She tried to speak, to tell John to leave him alone, but she found that she couldn't move her mouth properly; her jaw was probably broken.   
"No," the man was saying pleasantly, "I'm not her boyfriend, I'm her neighbor." The man's eyes shifted from John to her, taking in her condition, then back to John again. "I believe it would be best if you would leave now," he continued in the same polite voice. _Oh no,_ Amanda thought. _Now he's done it._   
"You believe, huh?" John sneered. "Well, _I_ believe you better get the hell out of here while you can still walk!"   
"All right," he agreed. "But she's coming with me." He raised his arm, and Amanda saw he was holding a long stick.   
"What's that, a magic wand?" John asked mockingly. "I only guessed 'cause you're such a fucking fairy!"   
"Sorry, neither," the man replied wryly. Enraged, John lunged for him. _"Impedimenta!"_ John immediately collapsed to the floor, a stunned expression on his face. The man looked down at him. "You're half right," he said. "This IS a magic wand, but I'm not a fairy, I'm a wizard."   
"FUCK YOU!" John roared.   
"I don't think so," the wizard replied calmly, watching as John tried in vain to make his legs work. He raised his wand again and used it punctuate his words as he spoke. "Right then," he said, his cheerful voice suddenly hardening. "IF I ever see you anywhere in this city again, I'll turn you into a toad and set you loose in Central Park. IF you ever harm her again or indeed, come anywhere near her for any reason at all, I promise you that you will regret it. Do we understand one another?" Eyes narrowed, John nodded. "Fine. _Prior Incantatem!_" John hauled himself to his feet, looking shaken. "Oh, and one more thing, John," the wizard continued. "I think next time, you should try picking on someone your OWN size." He pointed his wand at John. _"Reducio temporari!"_ Amanda watched in astonishment as, right before her eyes, John shrunk so that now he was smaller than she was! John looked down at himself in shock. "IF you behave yourself and think only nice thoughts, there's a slight chance that this spell will wear off and you'll return to normal size. If not, well…" Though he left the rest unspoken, his meaning was crystal clear: _Be nice or stay like this._ "Now," he continued, "are we quite finished here?" John glanced up at the wizard, nodded briefly and then, looking terrified, pushed past him and raced out the door. "Remember," the wizard called after him, "NICE thoughts!" Sighing, he walked over to Amanda and crouched down on the floor next to her. "Right then," he said, his voice softening "I'm Remus Lupin. I live across the hall." She couldn't help staring at him. She had never seen anyone like him before. Though his tousled, graying hair, his jeans, and his flowing gray shirt were all normal enough, his eyes were not. They were intense, startling even, with sky blue irises ringed in darkest blue. _He's got eyes like one of those Alaskan dogs,_ she thought. _Maybe because he's a wizard._ She had no doubt that he was exactly what he claimed; she'd seen the proof not moments ago. _I wonder if he's ancient like Merlin?_   
Remus stayed where he was, giving her time to study him while he assessed her injuries. What little he knew of Muggle medical techniques told him that even with immediate medical attention, she would probably never again have a face that she would want to look at in the mirror. Both of her eyes were blackened, her jaw was broken in several places, and all of her front teeth were missing. Her nose was bent at an odd angle, and one of her cheekbones was broken. There were several angry, bleeding slashes across her right cheek, probably made by a razorblade. A sliver of bone was protruding out of the skin beneath her lower jaw. He searched his memory for the healing spell that Madame Pomfrey had taught him right before he'd left Hogwarts. Hoping he remembered it correctly, he raised his wand. _"Hippocraticus!"_ He watched as her injuries mended themselves and the slashes in her cheek disappeared gradually, like time-lapse photography. Slowly, gingerly, she sat up. He surveyed his work critically. _Her face looks good,_ he thought. _As for her teeth -_ _"Densaugeo!"_ She raised her hands to her face, startled. Then she burst into tears. Remus sat back on his heels, looking dismayed. _What have I done to make her cry?_ He wondered. "Are you alright?" he finally asked, concerned. She sniffled, wiping away tears.   
"Yes," she replied weakly. "I'm just a little bit freaked out, that's all. I mean, it's not every day that…" Her voice trailed off and she waved a hand expansively. Remus nodded.   
"I'm sure it's all been a bit much for you," he agreed, smiling faintly. She looked down at her shirt, which was spattered with her own blood.   
"Gosh, look at this," she said, tugging at the stiffening material. "I should go change." On cue, Remus stood and offered her his hand. Always oversensitive because of the way his lycanthropy was looked upon in the wizarding world, he feared that he had already overstayed his welcome.   
"I really should be going," he said apologetically as he helped her to her feet. I've got - "   
"Oh no," she interrupted, surprising him with her next words. "Stay, please. At least let me offer you a drink or something, after all you did."   
"All right," he agreed, suddenly sounding rather shy. Smiling happily, she turned and went down the hall towards her bedroom. He turned to sit on her sofa, and that's when he saw the blood all over the wall. _He must have smashed her face into the wall,_ Remus thought. _My God, what sort of monster...?_ He shook his head, appalled by the violence of the Muggle world. As much as he enjoyed living among them, there were some things to which he would never become accustomed. To distract himself from the unpleasant sight of the bloody wall, he walked around the living room, taking in his surroundings. There was an entertainment center with a widescreen television, DVD player, and huge speakers. On either side of that, built-in bookshelves housed various books and knickknacks. On a lower shelf, he spied something that he took to be a crystal ball, and walked over to investigate. On closer inspection, it turned out to be a water-filled globe with the New York skyline inside. He picked it up and shook it, and it rained iridescent glitter in New York. Smiling, he put it back on the shelf. _I must find out where she got that,_ he thought. _It looks like something Harry and his friends would like._ On the wall opposite the blood that he was trying so hard not to look at was a large window, giving a breathtaking view of the real New York skyline. He went and stood at the window, gazing out at the cityscape below. It was dusk, and already the city was beginning to come alive with lights, the top of Empire State Building was glowing like a jewel. _There's nothing that compares to this in the wizarding world,_ he thought.   
"Is the view in your apartment better than mine, Mr. Lupin?" Remus turned to see his neighbor walking into the living room. She had changed into a gray sweatshirt and matching sweatpants.   
"No," he replied, shaking his head. "I can't see the Empire State Building from my apartment. And please, call me Remus." She smiled and walked over to him, extending her hand for him to shake.   
"And I'm Amanda Richards. Call me Amanda." As he released her hand, he noted that his healing spells had worked wonderfully. It had been hard to tell before, but now that she had washed the blood off her face, it was clear that no signs of her injuries remained. In fact, she was quite lovely, with long copper-blonde hair, emerald green eyes, creamy porcelain skin, and high cheekbones. A gentle person by nature, he simply couldn't comprehend why any man would wish to harm such a beautiful, delicate-looking creature. He suddenly realized that he had been staring. "You know, you're better than an army of Park Avenue plastic surgeons," she told him, raising a hand to her formerly slashed cheek.   
"Thank you," he replied modestly, thankful that she seemed to think he had simply been reviewing his handiwork.   
"Would you like a glass of wine or something?" she asked.   
"Yes, I'd like that very much," he said, surprising himself.   
  
  
  
Her kitchen was ultramodern; all brushed metal and flat surfaces. Even the huge side-by-side refrigerator had a brushed metal finish. The stove was a glass top stove, sleek and shiny. The kitchen table was a piece of retro kitsch with slightly splayed legs, its top repeating the brushed metal theme. It was there that Remus sat with Amanda, watching as she sipped her wine and idly turning his own wineglass around and around between his hands, the ruby liquid sloshing against its crystal sides.   
"Remus," she said contemplatively. "What an unusual name. Like in the story."   
"What story?" he asked curiously.   
"It's an ancient Roman myth. Romulus and Remus were twin sons of the god Mars. Their mother put them in a basket at birth and sent them down a river. They were found by a female wolf who suckled them as her own." _How appropriate,_ Remus thought wryly. "Romulus went on to become the founder of Rome, you know."   
"And what happened to Remus?" he asked. She shrugged.   
"Well, in one version, Romulus killed him. In another, he simply disappeared. So I guess it depends on which version you like."   
"And which do you like?" he asked, taking a small sip of wine.   
"I don't know I mean, I never really thought about it before, you know?" She was silent for a moment, thinking. "I like happy endings, so I suppose I hope he disappeared and lived happily ever after."   
"Perhaps he did," Remus said softly. She leaned forward in her seat, studying him intensely from across the table. Such close scrutiny made him nervous, and he took another sip of wine.   
"You know," she said, emboldened by the wine she'd drunk. "You have the most extraordinary eyes. I've never seen a human being with eyes like yours."   
"Oh, I wasn't born with them," he said offhandedly. Her eyebrows went up; a silent question that he wasn't sure how to answer. Mentally kicking himself, he thought for a moment and decided on an edited version of the truth. "According to the literature," he said slowly, "it sometimes happens to people with my condition." She blinked.   
"Oh," she said, not knowing what to say. Now that she thought about it, he did not look to her like a well man. He was very thin, verging on gaunt, his skin was unnaturally pale, and he looked tired. Also, there was a haunted look in those unusual eyes, as though sleep did not come easily, if at all. "Look, I'd better go," he said suddenly, putting his glass on the table and standing.   
"I hope it wasn't something I said," she worried. He gave her a tired smile.   
"Not at all," he assured her. "It's getting late though, and I have a lot of work to do tonight." Though he hadn't finished even half the wine in his glass, he swayed a bit unsteadily on his feet.   
"I'm very grateful for everything," she said as she walked him to the door. "If it hadn't been for you he probably would have killed me this time." Remus winced at the "this time", implying as it did that there had been other times.   
"I don't think he'll be back," he said.   
"No," she agreed, smiling. "I don't think he will. And if he does come back, I think I can handle him now - unless he actually manages to think enough nice thoughts to get himself back to normal size!"   
"Um," Remus said guiltily, "I'm afraid he'll go back to normal size regardless. The spell is only temporary. I couldn't leave him like that forever; someone was bound to notice and we wizards aren't allowed to do things that will draw attention to ourselves." Amanda looked apprehensive at this news. "Don't worry," he told her reassuringly, "HE doesn't know that. Imagine him sitting somewhere with his eyes shut tight trying like hell to summon up a nice thought!" At the mental picture, Amanda giggled. "That's better," he said, smiling. "I'm sure he won't be back. I don't think he wants to spend the rest of his life hopping through Central Park!"   
"You're probably right," she conceded. They stood in the demolished doorway. There was an awkward silence. "Well, I guess I'd better call the super about this door," she said, sounding like someone who was steeling herself for an unpleasant task. "Wait 'til he sees THIS. He's gonna be _pissed_". Remus smiled.   
"Good night, then," he said.   
"Good night," she replied. She really wanted to lean forward and kiss him on the cheek, but something stopped her. There was a reserve about him, a reticence in his manner that made her feel he would not welcome such contact, especially from someone he barely knew. So she settled for shaking his hand again instead. She watched him walk across the hall to his own apartment. He intrigued her; he was an enigma. And there was nothing Amanda liked better than a good mystery.   
  
  
  
CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 2   
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

  
  
  
"An English Werewolf In New York"   
  
  
STANDARD DISCLAIMER: The characters belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm not making any galleons, sickles, or knuts from this (no dollars either). The poem that Amanda quotes (which is inscribed on the Statue of Liberty) was written by Emma Lazarus.   
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE_: _I am indebted to my fellow fanfic authors Foxfeather and Emilizanne for their stories _Second Chances _and_ Trusting in Secrets_, respectively. Until I read their stories, it never occurred to me that there might be uncertainty in the wizarding world about possible alternate methods of transmission for lycanthropy besides the known method, the bite of a fully transformed werewolf, or that Remus Lupin would choose to live a celibate life because of it.   
This chapter is dedicated to the survivors, the victims, and the heroes of the September 11 terrorist attacks in New York. I wanted to write something positive about that city for a change, and I hope I've succeeded.   
  
  
  
Chapter 2   
  
  
_ "What must I do, to tame you?" asked the little prince.   
"You must be very patient," replied the fox. "First, you will sit down at a little distance from me - like that - in the grass. I shall look at you out of the corner of my eye, and you will say nothing. Words are the source of misunderstandings. But you will sit a little closer to me, every day..."   
The next day, the little prince came back.   
_  
- From _The Little Prince_ by Antoine De Saint-Exupéry   
  
  
"Hello?" Amanda called, knocking on the door. "Remus, are you home?" There was no reply. _I shouldn't have come this early,_ she thought. _He's probably still in bed._ The door suddenly opened, and there was Remus, dressed in a gray robe and holding a damp towel to his head with one hand.   
"Good morning," he said cheerfully, rubbing his damp hair with the towel.   
"Hi," Amanda said, embarrassed at having come at an inopportune time. "I just wanted, I mean, I can come back later, or - "   
"Don't be silly. Come in," he said, opening the door wider and moving aside to admit her. As she passed him, she smelled shampoo, soap, and something else, a faint, oddly familiar scent that she couldn't identify. "Would you like some tea?" he asked.   
"Oh, I don't know…"   
"Really, it's no trouble," he assured her. He picked up his wand and used it to tap a teakettle sitting on a potholder on his scroll-littered desk. The kettle immediately began to whistle, steam pouring out of its spout. _That's amazing,_ she thought. _He really IS a wizard. This is just unbelievable._ "Right then," he was saying, "I've got Earl Gray - how does that sound?"   
"Anything you have is fine," she told him. "Trust me, I'm not exactly what you'd call a tea connoisseur!" He nodded, smiling.   
"All right, then." She watched him take some dried tea leaves out of a canister on his desk and toss them into the pot.   
"You know," she continued, "With all the stuff going on last night, I guess it didn't really sink in that you're actually a…" Her voice trailed off as she realized that his manner had suddenly changed; he had stiffened as though anticipating a blow. "Um…" she tried to pick up her train of thought. "That you're a wizard." she finished, and saw him relax. _I wonder what he thought I was going to say?_   
"Oh yes, that. Well, we generally try to keep ourselves hidden from the Muggles, but last night it seemed - "   
"Wait a minute," she interrupted. "What's a Muggle?"   
"You are," he replied. "You and everyone else who aren't wizards or witches."   
"Regular people," she offered.   
"If you like," he agreed, smiling again. "Look, I'm going to get dressed while the tea is brewing." He gestured towards a sofa, large and comfortable-looking. "Please, make yourself at home." He took the towel off his head and ran a hand through his damp hair, releasing more of that warm, strangely comforting scent that she _knew_ she recognized but just couldn't place. "I'll be right back," he called, heading up the hall towards - unless she guessed wrong - his bedroom. It appeared that his apartment had the same layout as hers. He had the same large window looking out over the city, and though he had no entertainment center, he had the same built-in bookshelves. Instead of books, his shelves were packed with rolled-up scrolls stacked in neat piles. She longed to select one at random, unroll it and read its secrets, but she knew she would do no such thing unless invited. What little she already knew of Remus Lupin told her that he was a very private person, and winning his trust would be difficult enough without being caught in the act of snooping around among his possessions. However, there was one scroll that she could read without appearing overly nosy, and she walked over to examine it. It had been unrolled and taped to the wall above the telephone on his desk. Curious, she bent to read the instructions for operating a telephone written by someone named Harry. A PS from someone named Hermione was much longer than the original note, and it contained astonishingly detailed instructions for placing international phone calls from the United States. For some reason, these instructions included notes on Alexander Graham Bell, a detailed description of how telephones work, the history of AT&T and a comparison of the company to British Telecom, and the origin and purpose of American area codes. _A bit anal are we, Hermione?_ Amanda thought, amused. By now, the tea had been brewing for a while, and she could smell it, warm and fragrant. She had to admit there was something cozy about the aroma. "Tea should be ready by now," Remus said, coming back into the living room. He saw that she'd been reading his telephone instructions, and his eyebrows went up but he did not comment. She was suddenly very glad that she had not looked at any of the scrolls on the shelves.   
"It smells really good," Amanda said, indicating the teapot.   
"I hope it tastes as good as it smells," he replied. "I'm afraid I may have left it too long." He pointed his wand at the kitchen, and she heard cupboards opening. Two mugs came flying in from the kitchen. Remus deftly caught them out of the air and set them on the desk. He looked over to see Amanda smiling and shaking her head. "What?" he asked, bemused.   
"Nothing… I mean, _wow_. I can't get over this. Cups flying around and stuff… it's just incredible." He poured the tea and handed her a cup.   
"Too warm?" he asked solicitously as she sipped the fragrant tea.   
"No," she murmured. "It's fine."   
"Good." There was an awkward silence.   
"Actually," she began, "I came over to ask you if you wanted to have some breakfast." He was looking at her like she'd suddenly begun speaking in Japanese. However, she was committed now and there was nothing for it but to plunge bravely ahead. "There's a diner around the corner… it would be my treat. It's the least I can do after everything you did for me last night." He was silent for so long that she was certain he was going to refuse. Finally, he set his mug down on the desk.   
"I'll just get my coat," he said.   
  
  
  
Over fried egg and bacon sandwiches, Amanda told Remus about her tumultuous marriage to John and how she, like Remus, had come to New York to disappear and begin a new life.   
"He didn't start out that way, you know. Abusive, I mean." Remus nodded, sipping his coffee. "I never would have married him if he'd been like that." Amanda had been working as a freelance graphic artist when she'd met John, who at the time had been at the height of his career as a quarterback for one of the best teams in the NFL. But soon after their wedding, he had injured his knee, destroying his career and sending him into a fit of depression. "He was so angry… just angry at the world. And I was always around. He began taking it out on me." To John's credit, he'd realized what was happening to him, and he'd taken up bodybuilding in an attempt to do something constructive with his life. "But as hard as he worked out, he never got big enough to compete professionally. He'd work out all day, like eight hours or more, and then he'd see a guy who was just totally ripped, you know, and he'd get depressed again. That's when he began taking steroids. He got huge, but his aggression level just soared, especially when his dick stopped working. He was irrational, blaming me for it. I kept trying to tell him it was the 'roids, but he just wouldn't listen." Remus, who had no idea what "totally ripped" meant (it sounded painful!) or what steroids were, simply nodded. He understood enough to get the basic idea. "On the bright side, I got a huge divorce settlement, because I had tons of witnesses to the abuse. It was constant, you know? I think I was keeping Dermablend in business all by myself!" She sipped her coffee. "I can laugh now, but it wasn't funny at the time. You saw how he was last night… just totally out of control." She smiled. "You handled him so well!"   
"I have had more than a bit of experience with 'totally out of control'," Remus said wryly.   
"Really?" she asked, curious.   
"My specialty is Defense Against the Dark Arts," he explained.   
"Wow… sounds dangerous! I'm intrigued - tell me more!" He laughed, and began telling her about boggarts, grindylows, banshees, zombies, and things that went "bump" in the night.   
"I wouldn't be good at that stuff," she told him. "I'd be terrified! My hands would shake so badly that I wouldn't be able to get my wand pointed in the right direction!" To emphasize her point, she picked up her butter knife and pretended to zap random things around the diner by accident, all the while wearing a mock expression of abject terror. At one point she tried using her other hand to steady her shaking "wand" hand, with poor results. He laughed appreciatively at her impromptu performance.   
"Oh, it's really not that bad," he replied, still chuckling. "Most of the time I'm too busy concentrating on getting the spell right to be very afraid!"   
"You've never been really scared?" she asked. He thought for a moment.   
"Only once," he finally said.   
"What was it? That scared you, I mean?" He took a sip of his coffee.   
"A werewolf." Much to his amazement, she laughed.   
"Oh come on, Remus. There's no such thing as werewolves!"   
"You don't know how much I wish that were true," he replied, suddenly sounding very sad. He looked down at his coffee cup and sighed deeply.   
"OK, enough of this spooky talk," Amanda said briskly, unsure what had killed his perpetually cheerful mood but determined to do something about it nonetheless. "Suck down the rest of that coffee and let's get going." His eyebrows went up, but he did what he'd been told.   
"And where are we going?" he asked, setting down the empty cup.   
"How long have you been in New York?" she asked.   
"Oh, I don't know," he replied, shrugging. "A month or so."   
"Uh huh. And have you been to the Statue of Liberty? The Empire State Building? FAO Schwartz? The Museum of Natural History?" He shook his head. "Well, then, THAT'S where we're going!"   
  
  
  
Remus couldn't remember the last time he'd had so much fun. First, they took the ferry out to Liberty Island to see the Statue. "_Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,_" Amanda quoted, leaning on the ferry's railing and looking up at the Statue. "_The wretched refuse of your teeming shore._ Hey, that's you!" she said brightly, pointing at Remus.   
"I suppose it is," he agreed, laughing.   
They took the narrow spiral staircase all the way to the top of the Statue to peer out of her crown at the New York skyline across the way.   
"Pretty cool, huh?" she asked.   
"Very," he agreed.   
Next, they returned to Manhattan. It was lunchtime by then, and Amanda found a hot dog stand and bought Remus his first Sabrett hot dog, complete with the special onions in sauce.   
"I just want you to know that this looks absolutely disgusting," he told her, taking a bite. He chewed thoughtfully, swallowed, and then - "I'll have two more, please!" They both laughed as Amanda paid the vendor. Remus was certain he'd never laughed as much in his life as he did that day. Amanda had no knowledge of the wizarding world, and therefore was always coming up with comments that he found endlessly amusing.   
"After this, we'll take a walk in the Park," she told him, finishing her hot dog. Remus glanced at the sky, which had turned an ominous gray.   
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" he asked. She frowned.   
"Rain, rain, go away!" she chanted. "Hey, Remus, don't you know a spell to make it all nice and sunny again? Get out that magic wand of yours and show that sky who's boss!" she commanded, waving her arms wildly in all directions and making him laugh once again. At that moment, there was an enormous clap of thunder. Amanda squealed.   
"Now see what you've done!" Remus said teasingly. She laughed.   
"We're gonna have to run for it!" she told him, pointing to a coffee shop across the street as the rain began pelting down. Remus briefly considered using the spell that repelled water, but decided he'd better not do magic in the middle of a sidewalk crowded with Muggles. Instead, he pulled the collar of his long gray trench coat up over his head. He put his arm around Amanda, wrapping her in the coat as best he could, and waited for the traffic light to change. After what seemed an eternity of standing out in the pouring rain, they made it to the coffee shop, soaked to the bone and laughing. They stood under the coffee shop's awning, wringing water out of their clothes; Amanda squeezed water out of her hair and watched as Remus tried to do the same. His hair wasn't long enough, so he finally settled for shaking his head like a dog, sending her into fits of laugher as she was splattered with water. Again, Amanda smelled that familiar scent that she still could not identify. It was only later, as they sat inside sipping coffee and talking that Amanda placed that elusive, strangely comforting smell. When she was a child, her family had had a huge Old English sheepdog named Shep. Remus's clean, damp hair smelled exactly like Shep had after he'd been to the groomer.   
  
  
  
After that day, Remus and Amanda began spending quite a bit of time together. He soon found that Amanda's magic was quite impressive; she could pick up his telephone and make a deliveryman with pizza or Chinese food appear at his door - amazing! She could turn a knob on a small box on her kitchen counter, and Muggle music would come pouring out - but where were the players, the singers?   
Amanda introduced Remus to the many wonders of the Muggle world. When he expressed surprise that the people and objects in Muggle photographs remained still, she introduced him to television and movies. In her spare bedroom that she used for an office, there was a desk with an item that he took to be another television, though this one looked like it was made out of something that might be good to eat. One day, she'd turned on the translucent purple device and introduced him to the wonders of the Internet, where a person could get information on practically any conceivable subject. The next day, Remus and Amanda had gone to the computer store, and now he had an iMac of his own, a sleek, slate-gray machine that looked quite out of place on his desk among his scrolls and quills. After his acquisition of the computer, Amanda began bringing her re-writable CD ROMS and her Zip disks to his apartment, where they'd sit for hours in companionable silence, with him scrawling away on a scroll while she worked on art projects on his computer.   
And Amanda made him laugh. She once appeared at his door dressed in a witch costume left over from some long ago Halloween party, carrying an empty measuring cup and asking to borrow some of eye of newt. Through his laughter he had told her that he was fresh out, and she had replied with a totally straight face that toe of frog would be fine too. And she had an endless supply of nicknames for him that she made up on the spur of the moment and subsequently employed at random depending upon her mood and the situation. Among her favorites were "RJ", "Wiz", "Magic Man", and "Speedball".   
Soon, Remus found that his day seemed somehow incomplete if he hadn't seen Amanda at least once, even if only to knock on her door to say 'hi'. Gradually, he began to open up to her, telling her about his school days at Hogwarts and some of the adventures he'd had fighting the Dark Arts. He told her about his friends James and Lily Potter, and their son Harry who was famous in the wizarding world as The Boy Who Lived. He told her a bit about his short-lived career as a professor at his alma mater, omitting the part about his lycanthropy. He hadn't had a close friend since his days as a student at Hogwarts, and he was beginning to realize what he'd been missing. Making friends in the wizarding world simply hadn't been worth the pain of the inevitable rejection, and so he'd always kept to himself. But Amanda was different; she was a Muggle. She knew that he often felt poorly and that occasionally he became quite ill, but she would she never figure out his secret on her own. What Remus didn't realize was that she would soon draw her own conclusions about his illness and its cause that had nothing to do with lycanthropy or the werewolves that she still didn't truly believe existed.   
  
  
  
Text of a letter to Remus Lupin delivered by Hedwig the owl:   
  
_Dear Professor Lupin,   
  
I'm glad you made a friend in New York. She sounds like a lot of fun. Things here aren't so fun. Snape gave us all detention cause we were wearing those 'I LOVE NY' tee shirts you sent us under our robes. He said we were out of uniform. Then Ron was muttering that Snape's just mad cause he knows no one would bother keeping in touch with HIM if HE left and Snape heard him and gave us all EXTRA detention on Saturday afternoon just for that. Snape made us all study for four hours straight, except Hermione. He made her collect slime from stinkslugs. I guess he figured out that studying isn't a punishment for Hermione. That was a week ago and she still stinks! She smells like never mind she's reading this over my shoulder so I have to be nice.   
  
Anyway, about your friend. I don't think you should worry about telling her your secret. She's a Muggle, right? Well I used to be a Muggle, and so did Hermione. We didn't grow up hearing horror stories about rampaging werewolves and I bet your friend didn't either. She probably wouldn't take it as bad as someone who was raised by wizards. Hermione says that I should tell you that your friend doesn't have the same precons preconciev preconceived notions about your problem that a witch would. Anyway, I'll wrap this up now and let Hermione add something.   
  
Your Friend,   
Harry Potter   
  
PS This is from Hermione I've done some reading and there's one Potions Master in NY who can make the Wolfsbane Potion, but you'd better stay away from him because he's also a werewolf hunter in his spare time. There's no one in New Jersey or upstate New York. I'll keep looking.   
  
Oh and send us a picture of your friend - is she very beautiful? Harry never remembers to ask the important questions! _  
  
  
"I wish you'd let me take you to the hospital," Amanda said worriedly. Remus, always pale and thin, had gotten quite a bit paler and thinner in the past few days. She stopped pacing the floor to look down at him. He was sitting on his sofa with a thick blanket around his shoulders, looking more unwell than ever. "You really don't look good." Remus smiled faintly.   
"There's nothing a doctor could do for me, Amanda."   
"Well, have you even been to one?" Remus shook his head. "Then how do you know?" she asked, exasperated.   
"I know."   
"Do you want me to make you some soup or something? Or how about if I use my Amazing Pizza Summoning Spell?" she asked, pointing at the telephone.   
"Get some for yourself if you like," he told her. "I can't eat. It would only make me ill." He suddenly winced in pain. "Bones ache," he said, at her questioning look. He gave her a faint, rather unconvincing smile.   
"Let me get you some Motrin or something"   
"I don't have anything like that here," he told her.   
"No aspirin?" He shook his head, looking past her out the window. The sun was beginning to set. _My God, the time!_ He thought. _I'd nearly lost track..._   
"Listen," he said suddenly, "I think I'm just going to go to bed." With effort, he stood, pulling the blanket more tightly around him. "I'll feel better after a good night's sleep."   
"I don't want to leave you alone like this," she said.   
"Well, you must," he told her briskly. He took her arm and practically dragged her to the door, glancing apprehensively over his shoulder out the window as the sun continued to set over New York. "Really, I've just got to get some sleep. I'll ring you first thing in the morning, all right?" She was quiet for a long moment, considering.   
"All right," she agreed finally, much to Remus's relief. "But you'd better call me, or I swear to God I'll have the cops and the paramedics breaking down your door to make sure you're still alive." _And she would, too,_ Remus thought, suddenly touched by her concern. He couldn't remember anyone ever being very concerned about his welfare; people were usually more concerned about the harm he might do to others than they were about how he felt.   
"I'll ring you first thing when I wake up, I promise," he assured her. She shook her head, a dubious expression on her face.   
"You take care of yourself, you hear me?"   
"Yes ma'am," he agreed. She surprised him by leaning up to kiss him chastely on the cheek.   
"Good night, Remus."   
"Good night," he told her, shutting the door behind her as she left.   
For a moment, he stood near the door, inhaling the lingering scent of her perfume and thinking about how wonderful it was to have found such a good friend. He put his fingers to the spot on his cheek where she'd kissed him, and they came away stained with red lipstick. He pressed them against his lips, closing his eyes and smelling the scent of the make-up, feeling its light greasiness on his own lips as if she'd kissed him there instead. He opened his eyes and jerked his head up. "No," he said out loud. "Remember what you are." Moving stiffly and slowly like a man twice his age, he went to his desk and picked up his wand. He went down the hall to his spare bedroom, which he always kept closed. The floor was hardwood, cold and bare. There was nothing in the room aside from a safe with a combination lock. He shut the door behind him, pointed his wand at the knob and muttered a locking spell under his breath. When he heard the satisfying 'click' of the lock's tumblers, he put his wand inside the safe and spun the knob to lock it. Werewolves, he had been glad to learn, could not open safes. Still wrapped in his blanket, he sank to the floor and stared out the window, waiting for the sun to finish setting and the full moon to rise, and for the madness to take him once again.   
  
CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 3   
  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

  
  
  
"An English Werewolf In New York"   
  
  
  
STANDARD DISCLAIMER: Nope, the Harry Potter characters STILL aren't mine. They still belong to J.K.Rowling and I'm still not making any money from this. The song _Thank You_ belongs to Dido.   
  
  
  
Chapter 3   
  
  
_So the little prince tamed the fox…   
"And now, here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye."   
"What is essential is invisible to the eye," the little prince repeated, so that he would be sure to remember... _  
_ "Men have forgotten this truth," said the fox. "But you must not forget it. You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed..." _  
  
- From The _Little Prince_ by Antoine De Saint-Exupéry   
  
  
Amanda grabbed the phone before the first ring had even subsided.   
"Remus?" she asked without preamble.   
"Yes, it's me," he said, sounding tired and weak. "I hope I didn't wake you."   
"Are you kidding? I've been up for hours. I couldn't sleep."   
"Really?" he asked, concerned. "Why not?"   
"Because I was worried about YOU, you goose!" He was silent for a moment. "Remus? Are you still there?"   
"Yes," he assured her. "Still here."   
"Are you feeling better?"   
"I suppose so."   
"Look, I went out last night and bought you some stuff. Can I come over?"   
"I'd like that," he replied. His voiced sounded strangely thick, as though he was trying to keep from crying.   
"All right. I'll be right over."   
  
  
  
A moment later, she was knocking on his door.   
_"Alohomora!"_ she heard Remus say, and the door swung open. She walked into his apartment, where she found him sitting on his sofa, wrapped in his blanket and clutching his wand. _Oh my God, he looks even worse today,_ she thought. _Is it my imagination, or does his hair have more gray in it this morning?_ He looked like he hadn't slept at all the previous night; those unusual eyes had ugly dark circles under them. He had a cut on his temple that was still oozing blood. He looked up at her and gave her a weak smile. "I read in your eyes that I look absolutely frightful," he told her.   
"Oh RJ," she said softly, setting down the brown paper bag she was carrying. "What happened to you? You cut yourself somehow. There's blood - " She leaned over to wipe it away. Horrified, he grabbed her wrist just as her fingers were about to make contact.   
"No, don't!" he exclaimed, still holding her wrist. "You mustn't…" He released her wrist and looked down at his lap. He sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. _That was too close,_ he thought.   
"I'm sorry," she was saying. "I didn't mean…" He ran a hand through his hair and she saw that it was shaking.   
"It's all right," he said finally, looking up at her. "Just be careful, you know? You shouldn't wipe blood off people like that - it's dangerous!" he scolded, sounding shaken. Amanda recalled the references he'd made to his "condition" every once in awhile. She suddenly knew exactly what was wrong with him, why he was so pale and thin, why he didn't want her to come into contact with his blood. She turned away so he wouldn't see the tears that had sprung to her eyes. She would not burden Remus with the grief she felt for him.   
"You're right," she said when she could trust her voice not to break when she spoke. "It's just not safe in this day and age, is it?"   
"I suppose not," he agreed, though he had no idea what she meant. He watched her rummage in the brown sack she'd brought. She pulled out a bottle and dumped three orange pills into her hand.   
"Here," she said, handing them to him.   
"What's this?" he asked curiously.   
"Motrin," she replied. "Last night you said your bones ached, right? Well, they should help. If not, I bought aspirin too." She went into his kitchen and returned, carrying a glass of water. "Drink up," she instructed. He tossed the pills in his mouth and took a sip of water. "Want some tea?" she asked.   
"That would be wonderful," he replied. She surprised him by picking up his wand off the sofa. She went over to the teapot on his desk and tapped it as she'd seen him do countless times, but nothing happened. He smiled, watching her. "That's not going to work, you know," he told her mildly as she continued to tap the teapot.   
"Stupid wand," she said. A spray of sparks suddenly shot out of the end. "Arrrgh!" she yelled. Remus laughed.   
"I told you so!" he said. She threw the wand down on the desk, snatched up the teapot and stormed into the kitchen, muttering darkly under her breath.   
"Hey," she called from the kitchen. "Did you hear some weird noises last night?"   
"What sort of weird noises?" he asked, already knowing what she was going to say. He heard water running in the sink.   
"I dunno, like some kind of animal. And this isn't the first time I've heard it, either." She walked back into the living room. "It sounded like howling. I think some nutjob on our floor has a wolf or something. You didn't hear it?"   
"I don't remember hearing anything like that," he replied truthfully. Remus had long ago discovered that wolf memories don't fit into human brains very well, causing him to have only hazy, vague memories of his activities on the nights of his transformation.   
"Well, if some whacko has a pet wolf, the super's gonna be pissed. We're not even allowed to have goldfish in this building!" She sat down on the arm of the sofa and put her arms around, him blanket and all. She waited for him to stiffen and pull away as he usually did whenever she tried to show him affection, but this time he was unresisting, allowing her to draw him against her. She sighed. "Oh, Wiz what are we going to do about you, huh?" She rested her cheek on the top of his head, noting that his hair carried the faint but unmistakable odor of a dog in need of a bath.   
Remus closed his eyes, savoring the closeness, the human contact. For most of his life, everyone including his family had treated him like a walking disease, a tainted creature that could infect others just by looking at them, and he'd come to believe it himself. He knew he should pull away from Amanda, that a monster like he was unworthy of such affection, but he simply couldn't bring himself to do it. Lily Potter had been the last woman to hold him, and she certainly hadn't held him like this; Remus could hear Amanda's heart, he could feel the softness of her breast under his cheek His head was filled with the heady scent of her perfume, a spicy Oriental scent called Opium that came in a little red bottle with painted gold lettering. He could picture it sitting on her dresser.   
"Don't worry, Amanda," he finally said. "I'll be fine."   
"Yeah, you sure look fine," she agreed sarcastically. "You're about ten country miles from fine. I know you don't think a doctor could do anything for you, but if you'd just let me - "   
"No." he said, quietly but firmly. "There is no cure for what I have, nothing that can be done - "   
"You can't give up hope!" she said adamantly. "They're making new progress every day with this disease!" He pulled away from her and looked up at her sharply.   
"What disease?" he asked. From the kitchen, the teakettle began to whistle.   
"Hang on," she said, rising. "I'll be right back." Remus watched her go into the kitchen, his thoughts in turmoil. _How could she know? Is it possible that lycanthropy is known to Muggle doctors, that they really are doing research, that there could really be a cure someday?_ From the kitchen, he heard cupboards opening and closing, mugs being taken down and filled with water.   
"Stalked in the forest, too close to hide," He heard Amanda sing. "I'll be upon you by the moonlight side." She returned to the living room, carrying two mugs of steaming tea. "Do-do do do, do do do, do do do, do do do, do do," she sang, catching Remus's eye and seeing him smile. Still holding the mugs of tea, she began to dance along as she continued to sing. "Strut on a line, it's discord and rhyme, I howl and I whine I'm after YOU! Mouth is alive with juices like wine, and I'm hungry like the wolf! Burning the ground, I - " Amanda stopped singing when she realized his smile had vanished. "What?" she asked. "Don't you like Duran Duran?" He looked down at his lap and shook his head, his lips pressed together in a thin line. "I'll have you know I was madly in love with Simon Le Bon when I was thirteen," she said lightly, wondering what she'd done to upset him.   
"Why did you sing that song to me?" he asked quietly. _Holy non sequitur, Batman!_ She thought. _When am I ever going to figure this guy out?_   
"Welllll" she said slowly, "I was thinking about the wolf or whatever it was that I heard last night, and that song just popped into my head."   
"Really?" he asked, looking up at her.   
"Yeeaaahhh." She said, nodding in emphasis. "Reeealllllllly." She sat down next to him and held out one of the mugs. "Would you like your tea now, Mister Bizarre?" He took the mug from her and sipped the steaming liquid.   
"Amanda," he began.   
"Yes?" He struggled for a moment to free his arm from the blanket, and then shocked her by putting it around her shoulders and pulling her against him.   
"Thank you for being my friend." She felt her eyes fill with tears.   
"Any time," she choked out.   
  
  
  
Text of a letter to Remus Lupin, confiscated from Harry Potter in the middle of Potions class by Professor Severus Snape:   
  
_Dear Professor Lupin,   
  
Thanks for the picture of you and your friend Amanda. Is that Central Park? I guess I'm used to wizarding stuff now because it was weird to see a picture that doesn't move! Hermione went into a snit because I said Amanda's pretty. Girls! Then George kept saying "it's all right, she's just jealous" and she got really mad. She got even madder when Fred wrote "Mrs. Hermione Lupin" on the inside of all her books - in indelible marker! I think it's funny. Snape didn't, though. He happened to see it in her Potions book and went completely bananas. Called her into his office and gave her a long lecture. She tried to tell him that Fred did it, but she just ended up getting detention with the stinkslugs again and now she's not talking to any of us anymore, including Snape.   
  
Anyway, I've been studying really hard. I'm trying to learn a Summoning Spell but it never seems to work right. I thought I was getting the hang of it when some books flew out and hit me in the head, but it turned out to be just Peeves throwing things at me. I bet you don't miss having Peeves around. Hermione just walked in and -   
  
  
Hello Professor Lupin,   
  
This is Hermione. I'm not speaking to Harry but I wanted to tell you that I'm still working on researching the Wolfsbane Potion for you. I haven't been able to make much progress because Snape won't let me borrow the books with the recipe in them. He has this funny idea that well it's a long and embarrassing story that you don't need to worry about. But I did find out that you wouldn't be able to make the potion yourself, because some of the ingredients by themselves are harmful to werewolves. If it doesn't have to be made fresh, maybe I'll try making it for you and sending to you FedEx (ask your friend Amanda what that is). Hopefully Snape will cool off soon and I'll be able to take a peek at his books.   
  
Love,   
Hermione   
  
PS Harry showed me the picture of your friend Amanda - she's very pretty. Did you tell her about your lycanthropy yet?   
  
  
It's Harry again. How do you like that? She just burst in, grabbed the quill and parchment right out of my hands, and started   
writing. Now I don't have time to finish this because I'll be late for Potions. Maybe I'll tell Snape that Hermione made me late because she wanted to write you a note serve her right if I did. Him too - his head would probably explode!   
  
Your Friend,   
Harry Potter _  
  
  
  
Amanda sat at Remus's desk, staring intently at the computer screen. She glanced at the clock in the upper corner of the screen. _We're going to be late... what on Earth is taking him so long?_   
"Hey, Speedball," she called. "Want to get moving? The movie starts at eight!"   
"All right," Remus called back. "I'll just be a few minutes." Amanda turned her attention back to her computer art. _It just needs a bit more color... maybe some purple -_   
"Well," a soft, silky, English-accented voice said from behind her. She spun in her chair and let out a little shriek. Standing before her was one of the ugliest men she'd ever seen. He was tall, imposing, with a large hooked nose and long, greasy black hair. "You must be Amanda," he purred.   
"That's me," she agreed. "And YOU must be another wizard who thinks it's really funny to sneak up on someone by Apparating, right? Well, I don't think it's funny when Remus does it either!" The visitor looked taken aback; clearly, this was not the reception he'd anticipated.   
"I am Severus Snape," he told her with great dignity. "Surely Lupin has mentioned me?"   
"Yeah, unfortunately. You know, you really look like a Snape." He put his head to one side, regarded her carefully for a moment, and finally decided that she hadn't meant her words as a compliment.   
"And where is your pet werewolf this evening?" he asked softly.   
"I keep him chained up in the back," she replied sarcastically.   
"This is no joking matter," he told her ominously. "I am only thinking of your safety." She sighed, exasperated.   
"OK, I'll bite. What werewolf?"   
"Ohhh, do you mean he hasn't _told_ you?" Snape asked in mock surprise. Remus walked into the living room looking just as Snape remembered him; thin, pale, cheerful. _Why does he always look so insufferably _happy_?_ Snape wondered. Remus saw Snape and stopped dead in his tracks, the slight smile he usually wore vanishing from his lips. _That's better,_ Snape thought with satisfaction.   
"Severus," Remus said in an odd voice, his face going even paler. Snape gave him a malicious grin, then turned back to Amanda.   
"My dear, you are in great danger. I would feel terrible if I didn't warn you that your good friend Lupin is a werewolf." He watched in satisfaction as Amanda's mouth fell open in astonishment. She was silent for a long moment. Remus closed his eyes, knowing what would happen next, steeling himself for the rejection he knew was coming. Finally, Amanda found her voice.   
"Are you on GLUE??" she demanded incredulously, staring at Snape like he'd just stepped off the spaceship from Jupiter. Both men looked shocked, Snape even more so than Remus. Snape's words were clearly not having the impact he'd hoped to achieve. He decided to try a different tack.   
"I assure you, once a month your friend turns into a vicious, ravening, voracious, uncontrollable beast!"   
"So do I," she said, shrugging. "It's called PMS." Despite himself, Remus laughed out loud at this. Snape blinked. "Anyway," she went on, rising to her feet, "even if it were true, what business is it of yours? How DARE you come Apparating in here to tell me this stuff?" She was really getting angry now; she began to move towards him as she continued, gradually backing him across the room. "If Remus had wanted me to know, he would have told me! It sure as hell wasn't YOUR job to tell me. I saw that smug smirk on your face - you thought I was going freak out on him and tell him to take a hike. You came all the way to New York just to try to ruin our friendship. What the hell is WRONG with you, anyway?" Snape was goggling at her in astonishment. So was Remus. "What a sick, sad, lonely, pitiful life you must have!" she continued. "But I guess I shouldn't expect someone with such a hateful, vindictive mind to have any other kind of life, should I? I think you need to Disapparate right on out of here before I pick up the phone and report you to the INS as a foreigner who's entered this country illegally! Then we'll all sit here and wait for them to show up and deport your sorry ass back to England!"   
"Foolish Muggle," Snape said softly. "You'll be singing a different tune when he bites you."   
"You know what? I WISH he'd bite me… might spice up our friendship a little!" She raised her eyebrows and peered suggestively at Remus, whose pale cheeks flushed with color. Snape looked shocked. "Now," Amanda continued, turning back to Snape. "Get the hell out of here, or I swear I really WILL call Immigration!" Snape shook his head, then fixed his gaze on Remus.   
"You know, Lupin, if you cared at all for her you'd leave her alone," he said. He got a bit of satisfaction when Remus looked at the floor, biting his lip. Smiling slightly, Snape raised his wand and disappeared. There was a moment of silence.   
"That was - " Remus began.   
"And YOU," Amanda said, rounding on him. "What's with this werewolf stuff?" Remus sighed. "C'mon, RJ - spill."   
"We're going to be late for the movie," he pointed out.   
"Forget about the movie." She went to the phone and picked it up. "I'm going to do my Amazing Pizza Summoning Spell, and then we're going to sit here and talk about werewolves."   
"But you don't believe in werewolves," he reminded her.   
"MAKE me believe."   
  
  
  
And so, sitting a little ways apart from her on his sofa, he told her. Without ever looking up or meeting her eye, he told her his secrets, all the while waiting for her to recoil in revulsion from the horrible monster he knew he was. He told her about the terror of being chased by a werewolf, the searing pain of the bite. He told her how his parents had sat and coolly discussed the merits of "calling the proper authorities" and "having him put down" right in front of him, as though he were no even longer human, let alone their son. His voice dripping with shame and self-loathing, he told her about the agony of the transformation, how he would lose his humanity, his self-control. How he was ill for days afterwards, his bones aching in protest at being reshaped into wolf form. And then he told her how he'd resigned himself to living a life alone, friendless. It was a lonely, less rewarding life, but it was also less painful than the constant rejection. He told her how he'd chosen celibacy rather than risking infecting someone else with his "disease".   
"No one knows exactly how it's transmitted," he explained. "It's the bite that does it, yes, but does the infectious agent lay dormant everywhere inside me? The fear that I will inadvertently infect someone haunts me, Amanda. I would never knowingly doom another person to live like this."   
Amanda's heart ached for him; she longed to slide closer to him, put her arms around him, tell him that it was OK, that she didn't care that he was a werewolf. But she could tell from the way he was sitting with his head down, not looking at her, that all of his defenses were up. Instead, she asked, "And there's no cure?" He shook his head.   
"Not as such," he replied, and then he told her about the Wolfsbane Potion. For a long moment, Amanda didn't speak.   
"Know what, Wiz?" she finally asked. Without looking at her, he shook his head. "I can understand how your old pal Snape there figured I'd run out on you once I knew the truth; he doesn't know me. But YOU do. I can't understand how you'd think I would reject you."   
"I'm a monster," he said quietly.   
"No!" she flared. "I know all about monsters - I was married to one, remember? You're no monster, believe me. You're one of the kindest people I've ever had the privilege of knowing. You didn't choose to get bitten by a werewolf, and you sure as hell don't choose to turn into one every month, do you?" He shook his head. "All right then. And I'll tell you something else - I'm actually relieved you're a werewolf."   
"Relieved?" he echoed incredulously, finally turning to look her in the eye.   
"Yeah. I thought you had AIDS." The doorbell rang. "Pizza's here," she said, standing and pulling money out of her pocket.   
  
  
  
Text of a letter to Remus Lupin, delivered by Hedwig the owl:   
  
  
_Dear Professor Lupin,   
  
I hope you're not mad, but I shared your last letter with everyone. You don't know how many people wish they could've been there to see your friend Amanda take the mickey out of Snape! She's a real hero around here now! Neville has been walking around with a big smile on his face for three days, just thinking about it. Snape is in a fouler mood than ever, especially after Fred offered him some glue. He got detention but he said it was worth it to see the look on Snape's face.   
  
I'm happy that Amanda took the news so well. I figured she wouldn't get as upset as a witch would, but you never know how someone's going to react, do you? I think you're right not to let her stay with you this month when you transform - that's just asking for trouble. If she knew what a transformed werewolf was like, she wouldn't want to stay anyway. Try telling her that, see what she says.   
  
Well, I'm going to let Hermione add something before I send this off with Hedwig. Yeah, Hermione is talking to me again - she HAD to talk to me to find out what everyone was laughing over in your last letter!   
  
Your Friend,   
Harry Potter   
  
  
Hello Professor Lupin,   
  
I'm still working on the Wolfsbane Potion project for you, but now that Snape's so ticked off I doubt I'll get much done. I mentioned wanting to borrow one of his books about it and he went into a rage like I've never seen. His face turned all purple and everything! Even Peeves left him alone for a while after that. I agree with you and Harry that letting Amanda stay with you when you transform is not even to be thought of - but it's sweet that she wants to do that for you. It sounds like she really cares a lot about you.   
  
Love,   
Hermione   
_  
  
  
Amanda slipped the key into the lock and opened the door, feeling a momentary pang of guilt at how she'd deceived Remus. He had been adamant in his refusal to allow her to remain with him in his apartment when he transformed, even though she insisted she would be perfectly safe as long as she didn't let him out of the spare room where he locked himself on full moon nights.   
"I won't even know you," he'd protested.   
"I don't care," she'd replied. "I just want to be here for you."   
However, he'd gotten so upset that she'd finally relented, agreeing to go back to her apartment and return to see him in the morning when it was safe. He hadn't noticed her pocketing the keys off his desk right before she left; he had been feeling too ill to notice much of anything at that point. Now she stood in the darkness of his empty living room. From up the hall, she could hear the werewolf, his claws scratching on the bare hardwood floor of his self-imposed prison. Undeterred, she started up the hallway. She reached the spare bedroom and sank down onto the floor in front of the door. She heard snuffling sounds from the other side of the door, and then the werewolf growled low in his throat.   
"Remus," she called softly. "It's me." The growl became a snarl. "Don't be angry," she pleaded. But the werewolf was becoming more and more agitated. She could hear him pacing the floor, growling. And then he howled; a chilling sound that turned her spine to ice water. _That's not some dangerous animal,_ she firmly reminded herself. _That's Remus. Remus would never hurt me._ Meanwhile, the werewolf had begun to hurl himself against the door, anxious to get to the prey he sensed on the other side. "Remus, you've got to calm down! You're going to hurt yourself!" At the sound of her voice, the werewolf only became more frantic. A thought popped into her mind. "Music to soothe the savage beast," she said out loud, more to herself than the werewolf who was still trying to bash down the door. She opened her mouth and began to sing, not knowing what would come out until she'd actually begun. The song sprung unbidden to her lips, the lyrics she didn't even realize she knew forming in her mind as she sang.   
  
_My tea's gone cold, I'm wondering why   
I got out of bed at all.   
The morning rain clouds up my window   
And I can't see at all   
And even if I could it'll all be gray   
But your picture on my wall   
It reminds me that it's not so bad, it's not so bad. _  
  
She felt tears in her eyes and her throat began to constrict, but still she sang on.   
  
_ I drank too much last night, got bills to pay   
My head just feels in pain.   
I missed the bus and there'll be hell today   
I'm late for work again.   
And even if I'm there they'll imply   
That I might not last the day   
And then you call me, and it's not so bad, it's not so bad._   
  
The werewolf had stopped hurling himself against the door. She heard him lie down, whining, tail thumping against the hardwood floor. And still she sang on.   
  
_And I want to thank you   
For giving me the best day of my life   
Oh, just to be with you   
Is having the best day of my life. _  
  
Tears ran down her cheeks. She could hear the werewolf whining, and without thinking, she reached up, put her hand on the doorknob, and opened the door. _Oh God oh God oh God,_ she thought. _What have I just done?_ The werewolf crept out into the hall. He was a marvelous golden and gray creature, peering at her with those stunning blue-on-blue eyes that looked so odd on a human being, but looked perfect on the werewolf. He approached her slowly, tail wagging and head down in submission. And still she sang on.   
  
_ Push the door, I'm home at last   
And I'm soaking through and through.   
And then you handed me a towel   
And all I see is you.   
And even if my house falls down now   
I wouldn't have a clue   
Because you're near me. _  
  
The werewolf looked up at her - was it her imagination, or was there recognition in those inscrutable eyes? The werewolf crept closer. Finally, he lay down next to her, resting his chin in her lap. He looked up at her as she sang, his tail thumping on the floor.   
_ And I want to thank you   
For giving me the best day of my life   
Oh, just to be with you   
Is having the best day of my life. _  
  
She suddenly realized that she'd run out of song. The werewolf continued to stare up at her.   
"Remus?" she asked. "Do you recognize me? Do you remember who I am?" _Thump, thump, thump,_ went the werewolf's tail. "OK," she said thoughtfully. "You shouldn't lie on this cold floor - your bones will REALLY hurt tomorrow." She eased his head off his lap and stood. "Come on," she told him. "I'll put you in bed and tuck you in." She led him into the bedroom. "Go on," she said, indicating the bed. He jumped up, turned around three times, settled down, and then looked up at her, whining. "What is it, Remus? What's wrong?" He put his head to one side and gave her that imploring look that all dogs seem to know. She walked over to the bed. "What?" she asked, fighting down the natural impulse to talk to him like he was a dog. _What is it, boy?_ she thought with a flash of humor. _Did Timmy fall down the well again?_ The werewolf's tail thumped on the bed. Suddenly, it came to her what he wanted. "Don't worry, I'm not leaving," she said softly, slipping her shoes off and climbing into the bed. The werewolf shifted in the bed, curling up next to her. Soon she felt his warm tongue licking her face. She smiled, put an arm around him, and drifted off to sleep.   
  
Partial text of a recent article published in the Journal for the Study and Control of Dangerous Magical Creatures:   
  
_ The average researcher in the field will have a difficult time finding a werewolf on whom to test new advances. For obvious reasons, few werewolves are prepared to come forward and offer themselves for experimental purposes, and so there has been little advancement in the study of lycanthropy.   
  
While the Wolfsbane Potion is highly effective for keeping werewolves in their right minds during the period they spend in lupine form every month, it is an inconvenient method for controlling lycanthropy, as it must be prepared by an accredited Potions Master and taken at specific times each month. It cannot be prepared in advance, for it loses its effectiveness if stored for long periods.   
  
A new and more effective method for the control of lycanthropy has recently been discovered. This method relies more on psychological conditioning than on potions or other types of medicinal remedies. It has recently been established that if the lycanthropy sufferer is given security and affection at the time of his transformation, he will retain all of his faculties while in lupine form. It is not certain why this has phenomenon has not been noted before; it is likely that most lycanthropy sufferers never experience these conditions due to the hunted lives they generally lead.  
  
It is hoped that this new information about lycanthropy sufferers will lead to greater understanding among the wizard community. Lycanthropy is not a disease of moral failing or divine judgment; it is merely a medical condition like any other and should be treated as such, without the hysteria and blind prejudice that usually accompanies the subject.   
  
It should be noted that further experimentation has established that the long-held belief that lycanthropy may be transmitted through sexual contact is false. Further studies are being conducted in this area, the results of which will be published at a later date, perhaps as soon as eight months from now   
  
Remus J. Lupin, Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry   
  
Amanda R. Lupin, Professor of Muggle Studies, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry _  
  
  
  
  
FINIS.   
  
PS If you liked this fic, read the sequels - _Life Just Isn't Fair!_, where you'll find out what Professor Snape thinks about the new additions to the Hogwarts staff (It's a humorous fic, in case you're wondering) and _An Academic Question_, in which Hermione has a question about the paper written by Remus and Amanda for the Journal for the Study and Control of Dangerous Magical Creatures (it's also fairly humorous in places).   
  
  



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